Russian Billionaire's Virgin Assistant

“So, what are you thankful for this year?” Ruth asked me, her irresistible brown eyes twinkling, after everyone had been served.

“I should think that would be obvious,” I remarked, giving a pointed look at her and Dima, who was mashing his fist into a serving of potatoes. “I’m thankful for my wife and child. For family. For our collective good health and fortune. For what the future may hold.”

Gerald coughed suspiciously.

“Something to add to that, old man?” I asked him, raising my eyebrows.

“Just funny, is all,” he said, coughing again to hide what I was sure was a laugh. “Last year, you were thankful — first and foremost — for your company.”

“Times change, Dad,” Ruth said, patting his hand. “We’re allowed to change with them.”

“I’m thankful we are allowed to change,” Gerald said. “Thankful that I’m here to witness it. Also thankful for family — always.”

“And you?” I smiled at my wife — the woman I loved more than anything. “What are you thankful for this year?”

“Lots of things,” she said warmly. “For my family. My friends. For the important work we have been doing through Volkov Telecom to better the world.”

Ruth had, obviously, earned her spot at my company, but she had preferred to go a different route than working there. At first, I had been offended — why wasn’t the company I had built with my own two hands good enough for her? She had been patient with me — as she always was — and assured me that it was for the best. It would have been a nightmare of nepotism getting her on the payroll after our marriage, and neither of us wanted that kind of distraction.

Instead, she had founded a nonprofit company focused on enhancing connectivity in developing nations. Ruth herself had spearheaded fundraising efforts and the kind of marketing she needed to pursue those goals.

I was so fucking proud of her — and insisted on my company becoming a major sponsor of such a worthy initiative.

“See?” Gerald asked, elbowing me and interrupting my reverie. “At least one of you still has their eye on the prize. You’ve let yourself get fat and distracted with fatherhood. My daughter is working so hard.”

“I’m working hard, too, old man,” I groused half-heartedly. I’d seen the twinkle in his eyes. “At least this round of gratitude is better than last year’s debacle.”

“Cheers to that,” Gerald said, clinking his wine glass with mine.

I noticed, belatedly, that Ruth didn’t join our impromptu toast. “I’m not done,” she said, smiling warmly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gerald grumbled. “Continue.”

“I’m especially thankful for the gift of motherhood,” she said. “Watching Dima grow has been so

amazing. I’m constantly stunned by the milestones — and looking forward to the wonderful way he will give back to his fellow human beings when he becomes of age.”

“You have years,” I told him in a stage whisper as he gummed a green bean. “Don’t grow up too fast.”

“What I’m most thankful for this year is that I get to bring another life into existence,” Ruth said.

“Are you serious?” Gerald asked before swatting me on the back of the head. “Haven’t you ever heard of a condom?”

“Are you sure?” I asked, warding off another blow from my father-in-law. “We tried to be careful!”

“Are you so upset?” Ruth asked gently, smiling and shaking her head at me. “Dima was a blessing. And his little sister — or brother — is going to be so loved.”

“Could be twins,” Gerald said neutrally. “Or triplets.”

“That’s enough out of you,” I snarled at him. “Ruth, really?”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, rubbing her stomach and grinning at me as Dima pounded his little tray and sent food particles flying.

I couldn’t wait until next year — the celebration would be even bigger.

THE END